


I'll Spend My Life With You

by scruffandyarn



Series: Missing Links [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eeep, F/M, It's happier than the other pieces in this series have been, This one was so much fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 06:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>People come and people go<br/>Movin’ fast and movin’ slow<br/>I’m in a crowd yet I’m all alone</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Spend My Life With You

**Author's Note:**

> While this does have a nicer ending than the previous parts, it is not the end of this series. I've got at least one more in the works. Possibly more. Who knows?

**Then** **  
**

“Dean?”

“Hey, ______.”  He sounded tired.  “How’re you doing?”

“What’s wrong, Dean?  Is it Sam?  Did he–”

“We got his soul back.”

You closed your eyes.  “And?”

“Death says he put a wall up in Sammy’s brain to keep all the Hell-nightmares away.  So far, it seems to be holding.”

“Death?  What–”

“Death.  You know, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.  Black robe and a scythe.  Well, actually more of a funny little man with an accent and a cane, but whate-”

“Are you trying to tell me you got literal Death, like with a capital D, to get your brother’s soul out of the cage?”

“Stranger things have happened, ______.”

“And the sad part is that that’s true.”  You huffed a sigh.  “Does he remember everything that happened while he was soulless?”

“Bits and pieces.  I don’t–he hasn’t mentioned you.  I can’t tell if it’s ‘cause he doesn’t remember or if he’s too ashamed to ask about you.”

“It wasn’t his fault, Dean.”  There was no heat in your protest.

“Doesn’t mean it makes what he did OK.”

“No.”  Forgetting would be damn near impossible.  “Do you think he’d regret it if he did remember?”

“He damn well better,” Dean growled.  “But how are you?  Are you OK?”

“Keeping busy.  Just finished up a ‘salt-n-burn’ last night.  Not going after anything too strenuous.  Figure I’ll leave all the heavy lifting for those of us with angels at our beck-and-call.”

“He’s not my damned pet, ______.”

You grinned.  “Did I say that?  But you do have him on prayer-dial, right?”

“Shut up.”

“You love me.”

“As a matter of fact…yeah, I suppose I do.”  You could hear the smile in his voice.  “Bobby wants to know when you’re coming back through.  Says he misses having something other than mine and Sam’s ugly mugs to stare at all day.”

“I can’t.  I can’t see him, Dean.”  He’d said it to tease, but you felt your chest constrict at the thought.

“You mean Sam?”

“Maybe he doesn’t remember, but I do.  And I just–I can’t look at him without hearing him tell me I’m nothing but urges to him.  I can’t think about him without thinking about what might have happened if you hadn’t walked into that room at that exact moment.”

He sighed.  “Alright.  I get it.  Maybe you can swing by when Sammy and I take off.”

“Maybe.”  You shrugged, even though you knew he’d never see it.  “Life’s shit.”

“No kidding.  I’ll talk to you later?”

“You better.”

“Stay safe, ______.”

“You too, Dean.”

 

**Then**

You flipped through the channels–yet another one covering this “new god” and all that he’d been doing.  The channel surfing came to an abrupt halt when you caught sight of a trench coat.  Was that…?

It had been a long time since you’d dialed up Dean that fast.

“Hello?”

“Dean?  Why the hell is Cas in a stain-glass window?”

A beat of silence, and then, “So I take it you’ve seen the news coverage of god-Cas.”  Dean snorted.  

“What the hell happened?”

“Stupid bastard Hoovered up all the souls from Purgatory.  That’s what happened.  Now he seems to think he’s God.  Goin’ around and raising the body count is about all he’s good for, though.  Matter of fact, not much different than the old God, although I think Cas likes to be a little more ‘hands-on’.”

“Purgatory?  What the fuck have you guys gotten yourselves into?”

“Don’t blame me on this, ______.  Sam, Bobby and I tried to stop him.  Then the asshat broke Sam’s wall.  So now I gotta worry about Sam going completely loony-toons on top of Cas breaking the world.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Not sure there’s anything you can do.  You can’t fix Sam’s melon and you can’t kill God.”

You sighed and bit your lip.  “You need me to come help with Sam?”

“No.” He was quick to answer.  “I mean–” he sighed.  “He remembers what happened, ______.  When Cas broke down the wall, he got back a lot more of what happened when he was soulless.  Found him one night, trying to strangle himself.  When I finally got him awake and talking, he said he was trying to get himself away from you.”  Another pause.  “He’d dreamed that he’d followed through with what he’d said to you back in Springfield.  I offered to call you up, prove to him that you were alright, but he said he couldn’t.  That he’d never be able to trust himself when you’re concerned.  I think–I think you being here would put him on edge even more than he already is.”

“Damn it, Dean.  I’m not not-helping you anymore.  I’ve fucked that up too much in the past.”

“I wish you could help, ______.”

“Dean–”

“Just–do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“If you see Cas, if you even think he’s within a hundred miles of wherever you are, run.  Run as far and as fast as you can in the opposite direction.”

“Dean–”

“I mean it, ______.  I already feel like I’m losing Sam because of him.  I don’t wanna lose you, too.”

“I’ll do my best.”  You sighed.  “Promise me you’ll keep yourself safe, too?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Do I need to list the number of times you’ve died?”

“Come on, ______.  I had an archangel on my ass.”  He probably regretted ever telling you about the case with the worm hole and the “mystery spot.”

“Yeah, and now you’re tangling with a wanna-be god.”

“Fine,” he huffed.  “Shit, when did you get to be so annoying?”

“You love me and you know it.”

“Keep telling yourself that, ______.”

**Then**

“This is Dean’s other, other cell.  So, you must know what to do.”

Fuck.  “Dean!  What the hell am I watching on the news?  I’m sitting in this god-forsaken motel room after ganking a djinn and I see you and Sam on the fucking news, shooting up everything!  God damn it, I need you to call me back.”

 

Ten minutes and several shots of whiskey later, your phone began to buzz.  The number came up as ‘Unknown’.  You bit your lip, and the bullet.  “Hello?”

“______?  It’s me, Dean.”

“For real-Dean or this crazy-ass mother fucker on the news?”

“Leviathan.  I promise you, that’s not really us.”

“Every time you and I talk on the phone, the shit you’re in just gets deeper.  How the hell do you manage it?”

“Good luck, I guess.”

“But you’re OK?”

“I had to put Baby in storage.  No, I’m not fucking OK.”

“Oh, shit.”  You sighed.  “I–I kinda wanna go gank the SOBs for you now.”

“There’s no way to kill them, ______.  At least, not that we’ve figured out yet.”  His voice was laced with pain.  “I’m in way over my head here, ______.”

“You’ll get through this, Dean.  You always do.”

“Yeah, but I always know how to kill the monster I’m hunting.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Figure out a way for me to kill these sons of bitches.”  He growled.  “We freaking dropped a car on one of them, but apparently, that doesn’t work either.”

“I can do some digging for you.  Bobby figure anything out yet?”

“He’s still trying.  Sam and I met up with a friend of his.  Frank Devereaux.”

“Oh, good god.”

“I know, right?  S’why I’m using a burner phone.  And Sam currently has no laptop to speak of, since Frank destroyed his.”

“Guy’s certifiable.  I’m sorry you have to deal with him.”

“You and me both.”  He sighed.  “OK, he’s giving me the side-eye now.  Probably thinks I’ve been on the phone too long and the Feds will start tracing it and be here in no time.”

“Probably.”

“Give Bobby a call if you figure anything out, OK?”

“Will do.”

 

You stayed busy for the next little while, trying to find something that would help Dean and Sam.  Bobby was having just about as much luck as you were.  Time felt like it was both rushing and standing still while you researched.  It wasn’t until you saw on the news that the fugitive Winchesters had been killed that you finally started to breathe easier.

 

“Shit.”  You stepped out of the motel bathroom to see the screen of your phone lit up.  Someone had called and left you a message.  Another one of those ‘Unknown’ numbers.  Probably Dean, letting you know what Channel 4 Action News had already told you.  They’d discovered a way to kill the Leviathans.

Pulling up the message, you hit the speaker button so you could dry your hair as you listened.  Everything froze as soon as you realized the voice in the message didn’t belong to Dean.

“______, it’s me.  Sam.”  His words were a little slurred.  Made sense.  He must have been drunk if he’d called you.  “I just–I needed to tell you something I found out today.  When Leviathan take your form, they some-how know just what you’re thinking and feeling.  Ran into Dean’s Leviathan earlier.  Said real-Dean killed a friend of mine.  But I bet you don’t know what else it told me.”

“I bet I don’t either,” you sighed as you started to get ready for bed.

“Said it thought it was funny.  What I did to you.  That I missed the look of fear–of repulsion on your face when soulless me said all that shit to you back in Spring-field.  I just–I hate myself, so much, for what I did to you.  All of it.  From Stanford to Springfield.  And even now.  You–you have every right, all of them, to hate me for what happened.  I hope you do.  Because I don’t think I could take it if you forgave me.  I don’t–I don’t deserve it.”

“Sam,” you closed your eyes.  

“I love you.  I’ve always loved you.  I coulda–coulda had you with me in Pal-o Al-to, and we’d still be there.  Still living on the beach, with our 5.2 kids and a dog.  And I had to go and fuck everything up.  S’what I do, though.  I break everything that’s good in my life.  S’why you have to stay away forever.  I think–I think if I hurt you again, then I deserve to go back in the cage with Luficer.”

There was a bit of static in the message and then Sam’s voice rang out loud and clear again.

“I would give anything, though, to have you back with me.  To hold you like I did before I left for college.  To know that you could still love a monster like me.  God, I really am a monster.”

The message ended with that.

You snatched up your phone.

“This is Dean’s other, other cell.  So, you must know what to do.”

“Dean, I don’t know where you are, but I’m guessing, since Sam called me, he’s not with you.  Find him, please.  I don’t know what your Leviathan look-alike said to him, but he doesn’t sound like he’s in a good place right now.  And just–please let me know he’s alright.”

 

**Now**

“______?”

You looked up, shock taking hold as you saw who had called your name.  Sam Winchester was standing not three feet away from you, looking positively thrilled to see you.

“Sam?”

“Sam, I–who are you?”  The petite blonde that had just moved to Sam’s side stared at you, some sort of accusation in her gaze.

“Becky, this is ______.  ______, this is my wife, Becky.”

“W-wife?”  You mentally kicked yourself for stuttering.  But really, could anyone blame you?  The last time you talked to Dean, he’d never mentioned anything about Sam being in a relationship with someone.

“Oh.  ______.”  The woman’s face soured even more.  “I’ve read about you.  You’re Sam’s ‘first love’.”  Complete with eye-roll and air-quotes.

“Read about me?”

“Yeah, ______.  You remember us telling you about Chuck, right?  And how he included you in his books about us?”  Sam kept smiling, completely oblivious to the death glare his ‘wife’ was sending you.

“Oh.  Yeah.  And the 42 dogs or something like that.”

“Right.”  Sam’s smile began to falter.  “So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here on a case.  Is that why you’re here?”  And where was Dean?  He really needed to swoop in and save you from this.

“We live here.  We can handle the cases around here.”  Becky replied sharply.

“We?”

“Oh yes.  Sam is training me to be a hunter.”

“And what a cute hunter you’ll be.”  Sam smiled down at her.

You were going to be sick.  “Is Dean around?  I wouldn’t mind catching up with him while you two are off doing…whatever.”

“I left him back in Vegas.  Couldn’t wait to get to my new home with my new wife.”

“Right.  Well, I’ll see you.”

“Never, hopefully.” You heard Becky mutter under her breath as you walked past her.

 

“Dean?”

“______, I can’t really talk right now.  I’m trying to find Sammy and–”

“I’ve found him.  He’s sitting in a Starbucks right now with his new wife,” you growled.  “How could you let me get blindsided like that?  Not once have you ever mentioned that he was seeing some–”

“Hold up.  You’re in Delaware?”

“There’s something going on around here and I came to check it out.  Didn’t know I’d be running into Mr. and Mrs. Sam Winchester while I was here.”

“Hey, you’re not the only one blindsided by this, ______.  Sam and I were just on our Vegas trip and all of a sudden, I’m caught in a freaking nightmare of Sam getting married to his super-fan.”

“Super-fan?”  You’d heard that before, but you couldn’t place it.

“Yeah.  We actually met her when you and Bobby came to…yeah.”  He didn’t need to finish his statement.  You knew exactly when he was talking about.

“When did he start dating her?”

“That’s the thing, ______.  He didn’t.  Last I’d heard, she’d hooked up with Chuck.  And now, all of a sudden, she’s got a noose around my brother’s neck.”

“He didn’t exactly seem like he wasn’t enjoying himself.”  You forced yourself to tamp down your jealousy.  Nothing good could come from it.

“I think she’s cursed him or something.  No way would he marry her willingly.”

“Then you need to haul ass and get here, pronto.”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?”

“Not getting here fast enough.”

“Cute.  Real fucking cute.”

“What am I supposed to do, Dean?  She kept looking at me like she was mentally poking pins in a little-me voodoo-doll.  And he seems perfectly content with whatever she’s been suggesting.”

“Can you stall them or something?  I’m at least another two hours away from you.”

“This would have been a great time to overcome your fear of flying.”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t know if she’ll let me near him to stall.  But I can tail them.  I’ll let you know where they wind up.”

 

You’d been sitting outside of the apartment building for nearly ten minutes.  You’d made it all the way up to find out which one they went into before ducking back to your car.  No need to have some suspicious neighbor call the cops.

In those ten minutes, you’d nearly started crying at least a dozen times.  This was it.  Sam had finally made the leap into marriage.  But hadn’t that been what almost happened seven years ago?  It had been ten years since Sam had made you a promise at a bus station.  Why was it still bothering you?

“______?”  You looked up to see Dean tapping on your window.

Heaving a sigh, you rolled down the window.  “They’re in apartment 7.”

“You doing alright?”

“Kinda wish I could get my heart back from your brother.  Tired of it getting broken every time I see him.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.  I’d like to kill whatever’s causing these deaths and then move on with my life.”  What life?  When you weren’t hunting, and even sometimes, when you were, Sam stayed in your mind.  “How is this healthy, Dean?  It’s been ten years, and I still can’t get over him.”

“He still loves you.”

“That’s not really helping with the whole ‘getting over him’ plan.”  You sighed.  “Go, figure something out and save your brother.  I’ll just–fuck it.  I don’t know what I’ll do.” You leaned your forehead against your steering wheel.  “He finally got married.  I should be happy for him.  Right?  If you love something, set it free.  If it doesn’t come back…blah blah blah.”

“You really believe that?”

“I honestly don’t know what I believe.”  You lifted your head.  “I wish I was five again.  Being a grown woman makes it hard to have a temper tantrum and not get strange looks.”

He smiled.  “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah, you will.  You’ll be the one videotaping me and putting it on YouTube.”

“Probably.”

“This is a sign.  A final wake-up call for me.  Sam Winchester is never going to love me the way I love him, and so I need to just move on.  Hell, maybe I’ll go to Vegas and get married to some random person.  No–that won’t work.  You won’t be there to give me away.”

“You’re rambling.”

“I’m tired, Dean.  I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.  I’ve spent nearly half my life being in love with your brother and I just–I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t waste any more of my life on something that isn’t going to work out.”

“It still could.”

You pursed your lips.  He wasn’t getting it.  “Dean, go do whatever it is you think you need to do.  I can’t do this right now.  Maybe ever again.  I’ll go snoop around and see what I can dig up about the deaths.”

“______–”

“I’ll call you if I find anything.”  Without waiting for a response, you rolled up your window and put the car in drive.

 

“Five of us.  Five of us are all working the same damn case.”  You threw back your shot, trying to drown out the sound of Garth laughing at the comics section of the newspaper.  “Half the time, when I’m out hunting, there’s not another hunter to help for at least a day’s drive.  And now, all of a sudden, there’s five of us.”

“The more the merrier.”  Garth smiled and set the newspaper aside before going back to his milkshake.

“Yeah, until the four of you get to watch me have a mental breakdown.” You glared over at Dean when he chuckled.  “Not funny, asshat.  I’m freaking dying over here.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t have to attend the ceremony.”

“Oh, yeah.  I can see that going over real well.  I’m sure Mrs. Winchester would have loved to have me at her wedding when I’m still in love with her husband.”  You buried your face in your hands.  “Why the hell am I even still here?  You two and the happy couple should be more than enough.”

“Don’t you fucking dare leave me, ______.” There was a plea in Dean’s voice.  “The two of us will just have to suffer through this together.”

“You better be glad I love you, Winchester, or I’d have bailed the moment Sam said hi.”

“What do you have against Sam, ______?”

“Look,” you frowned at the harshness of your tone. “No offense, Garth, but I don’t know you.  I’m not just gonna pour my heart out to every hunter who crosses my path.”

“She’s the premenstrual one you’re gonna have to worry about.”  Dean smirked.  “Ow!  Damn it, woman, don’t dig your nails into my leg.”

 

“Are you trying to humiliate me?”  You watched the woman in the white suit chew out the secretary.  “It’s Marsha with an S-H-A, not a C-I-A.”  She shook her head in disgust before…

God damn it.

“Hey, is that your–”

“Yes.”  Dean growled before turning to look at you.  “You OK?”

“Sure.  Fine.  Never better.”  You forced a wide smile to your face then scowled.

Dean stood up and walked over to where Becky and Sam were leaving Craig Burrows’ office.  It surprised you that she glared at Dean, although it didn’t come as any shock that her glare became positively murderous when she looked at you as she passed.

“If looks could kill, am I right?” Garth leaned over to whisper to you.

“Yeah.  I’m terrified.”  You rolled your eyes before standing and joining Dean and Sam.

“No point in going in.  Guy’s clean.”  Sam smiled.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  Positive.  Becky grilled him like a pro.  She’s a real natural.”

Becky grilled him?  Becky?  The last time you’d worked a case with him, he’d designated you as a fucking trainee!  Yeah, he’d been down one soul, but still.  Becky?

“What’s with the scrawny guy?”

“Him?  Oh-uh-” Dean began.

“My hunting partner, Winchester.” You snapped.

Sam just nodded and continued on after Becky.

“I freaking hate this.”

“No arguments here.”

 

“Shit.”  Dean ran, grabbing Marsha and sliding the two of them out of the way of the falling light fixture, leaving you to keep Garth back from walking directly under it as well.

“Watch it, man!” You pulled Garth back.

“How did you know?”  Marsha pushed herself up from the floor once everything had settled.

Just a few minutes ago, she’d been ready to have the three of you thrown out of the building.  Time for her to eat a little crow.

“‘Cause you’re not the first.  Come on.”  Dean helped her to her feet.

“You want to tell us what’s up here?”  Garth asked.

Marsha panted a little.  “I was having lunch with friends.  This guy heard me bitching.  Next thing I know, he’s making me an offer.”

“An offer?”

“Craig’s job for my soul.”  She said it with such indifference.  Like it didn’t matter that she’d agreed to spend eternity in Hell just to get her husband a promotion.  What was wrong with this woman?  “I know.  Hilarious.  I mean, what have I got to lose?”

“Uh, your freaking soul?”  You cocked your head to the side.

“What kind of demon deal is this?  Timeline’s wack.”

“What are you talking about?  Demon?”  She seriously had no clue?  Good god.

“Let me back up here,” Garth began.  “You made a deal with a demon in exchange for your everlasting.  Except those are 10-year contracts.  Why’s the bill coming due so fast?”

“I don’t know.  But I got a bad feeling about who’s next.”

Sam?  You looked at Dean in alarm.  

“You and me,” Dean looked at you.  “We got to find Sam, pronto.”

“Alright, alright, alright.  Here’s the plan.”

You rolled your eyes.  So far, Garth had been about as clueless in how to conduct an actual hunt as this Marsha bitch had been about her demon deal.  And he had a plan.  Great.

“I drop this lady at my cousin’s.  He’ll stop anything trying to get her.  We find Sam, hopefully fix this, everybody’s home in time for ‘America’s Got Talent’.”  Without letting anyone get a word in, Garth turned to Marsha.  “Now you, you’ll be living with a triracial paraplegic sniper until this all blows over, OK?”  He didn’t even wait for a response before he walked off.

Marsha’s look of horror was definitely worth putting up with any of Garth’s antics.

 

“Clear.” You nodded to Dean only to see Garth gallop past you and rush through the rest of the apartment.  “What the hell’s wrong with him?

“He’s just a little, enthusiastic, I think.”  Dean shrugged as he tucked his gun away.

No one was in the apartment.  Where the hell was Sam?  

“Find anything?”

You did.  Sam’s wedding photo with Becky.  He looked so happy.  But if Dean was right, and Becky sold her soul for this, then he probably wasn’t truly happy.  Maybe Dean was also right that it could still work out between the two of you.

You really needed to stop being so delusional.

“She’s got 11 Twitter–ers.”  Both you and Dean joined Garth who was looking over Becky’s computer.  “Last post–’going on romantic trip with hubster!!!’  Three exclamation points.  I guess she got excited.”

Dean picked up a frame that was sitting next to the computer.  “That look romantic to you?”  He held out the picture for you and Garth to see.

You could almost feel for this woman.  Yeah, she was dealing with some pretty shady shit, not to mention she’d done something to Sam, but…she was lonely.  And loneliness is everything it’s cracked up to be.

“Oh hell no.” Garth shivered in disgust.  “But, I got this thing about fish.  Dead eyes, man.”

You smiled as Dean rolled his eyes. and pulled the picture from the frame.

 

“Sam!”  Dean rushed over to where Becky had Sam tied to a bed.  His glare was enough to send Becky out of the room while he untied his brother.

“What are you doing here?” She quickly masked her fear of Dean and scowled at you.

“You know what, Becky?”  You took in a deep breath.  “I’m not here to cause you problems.  For whatever reason, you seem to see me as a threat to whatever you and Sam had going.  Promise, I’m no threat.”

“That’s not what the books say.”  She hmphed and folded her arms across her chest.

“Maybe, once upon a time, but not now.  Not for a long time now.”  You shrugged.  “And I get why you did what you did.  Don’t agree with it.  Think you’re an idiot for doing it, but I get it.  The idea that somebody you love–that they love you back.  It’s tempting.  But you gotta know, it’s not worth Hell.  You’d get what, ten years with Sam–”

“Twenty-five.”

“OK, even twenty-five.  And yeah, they’d probably be the best years of your life.  But is that worth forever, being tortured?  Enduring Hell?  You read the books.  You know what Dean went through.”

“N-no.”  Tears started falling from her eyes.  “But I–I just don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“Does it make you feel any better if I said I’m not too thrilled with being alone, myself?”

She looked at you with a sort of shock.  “But you–you walked away.  You left Sam.  Right before Jessica died.”

“He didn’t need me then.  Hell, he still doesn’t.  But then, he needed Dean.  And I needed to try and get over him.”

“That’s right.  You didn’t know Jessica died until Sympathy For The Devil.”

You cocked an eyebrow.  Sympathy for who?  “Sure.  We’ll go with that.  Look, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you seem like the kind of person who changes who she is to make other people happy–to get other people to like you.  Have you ever thought that maybe, if you just did your own thing, people would like you for that?”

“But my thing is–it’s not very popular.”

“So?  Dean told me all about that Supernatural convention.  Did you have fun?”

Her eyes lit up.  “So much fun.  The cosplaying and the games and…it was magical.”

“So, then do that.  Fuck everyone else.  Do what makes you happy.  The rest of it will fall in place once you figure that out.”

She seemed to ponder your words for several long moments.  “Do you do what makes you happy?”

“Hunting’s not really the life to lead if you want to stay happy.“ You sighed. "But being able to save people…I guess that’s pretty nice.”

“Do you still…you know…” She nodded her head towards the room Sam and Dean were still in.

“What? Love Sam?” You chuckled. “Always. But I’m just not it for him.” You shrugged. “Maybe one day, I’ll get to the point when I’m OK with that.”

“I think he might, you know, still love you.”

“He hasn’t loved me for a long time, I’m afraid.” You shook your head and gave her a sad smile. “You know, when all this is over, maybe you and I can go commiserate over our love for Sam.”

“Nah. I think I’ll see whether there’s a convention happening nearby. Gotta do my own thing, right?” She smiled before heading towards the opposite end of the cabin.

“Shit.”

“What?”

You chuckled a little as you turned to face Dean. “I think I’m slightly more pathetic than a girl who almost sold her soul for a date to her high school reunion.”

His laughter cut off when you slugged his shoulder.

 

You watched as Sam and Becky finished signing the paper that would annul their marriage. Then you flashed Becky a tired smile before leaving the apartment. Sam was a free agent again. Still didn’t make him yours.

“Hey, ______, wait up.” Dean grabbed your arm just before you reached the building entrance.

“What? You wanna run off to Vegas with me?” You grinned.

“Not hardly.” He smiled. “Just, what you said to Becky back at the cabin. Do you really hate being alone?”

“I don’t love it. I don’t hate it. It’s life. You just get used to it.” You frowned. “Wait.  You heard all that?”

“Thin walls. You know, you can always come hunt with Sam and me.” He laughed. “Although, your new hunting partner might get a little upset.”

“Wh–you mean Garth?” You rolled your eyes. “Hilarious, Winchester. I’d last a day, tops, if it was just him and me, before shooting one of us.”

“I wouldn’t mind if Sam got a different hunting partner.  As long as it was you.”

“You just say that because you know I’d never let him leave you.”

“Of course not.”  His smirk said otherwise.

“Dean, seriously. I told you. The new mission is for me to get over your brother. Not continue to wallow in the misery that is my life.”

“You sure about that?” Dean nodded back to Sam, who was just making his way to where you and Dean were standing.  “I’m heading out to the car.  Talk to him.”  He gave you a swift nudge in Sam’s direction.

“Dean, no, I–hey Sam.”

“Hey ______.” Sam cast his gaze to the floor. “How’re you doing?”  He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, looking all kinds of uncomfortable.

“Eh.”  You shrugged.  “You?  You’re the one who just got divorced.”

One corner of his mouth tugged up.  “Yeah, no.  I’m good.  Free man and all that.”  He looked up.  “Didn’t know you’d picked up a partner.”

“Garth?  He’s not my partner, Sam.  Didn’t know how you’d take it if Dean said Garth was working with him, so I figured I’d step in.”  You sighed.  “So you really are doing OK?  Dean–well, he told me Cas broke your wall.”

“Oh.”  He frowned.  “Yeah.  I got a better handle on it than I did before.  I–uh–You know, I kinda hate this.”

“What?”  Your eyes widened.

“I hate not knowing what to say to you.  It’s like, I got a million things I want to tell you, and a million more I want to ask you, but right now, I’m drawing a blank.”

“Well, you do have my number.”

“And you’re OK with me calling you?”  This big, strong hunter looked scared.  Just as scared as you felt.

You had no idea what made you say it.  “As long as I don’t get any more drunken voicemail, yeah.”

He laughed.  “God, Dean told me about that.  What did I even say to you?”

He didn’t know.  He had no idea what he’d said to you.  Nothing about how he’d told you he still wanted to be with you, or all the self-hate, or calling himself a monster.  What would happen if you told him?  Would he admit to it all being true?  Or would he shut himself off from you?

“You just rambled on about the Leviathan-you running around.  How yours was much better looking than the Dean-one.”  There was no point in rehashing.  He’d be better off not knowing the emotional wreck he’d left you in with one message.

“Sorry about that.”  He grinned.

“Meh.  I’m sure you were right.”  You smiled.  “Always have been better looking than that brother of yours.”

“I seem to recall a time when you didn’t think so.”

Oh god.  How the hell did he know that?

You felt your face begin to heat up.  “Worst week of my life, Sam.  I look back on it and feel such shame about it.  Kinda like anyone who wore MC Hammer pants and has pictures to immortalize the failure.”

His laughter was completely genuine and it caught you off-guard.  How long had it been since he’d laughed like that?  How long since you’d been the one to make him do it?

“I got lucky you came along and swept me off my feet.”

That sobered him up faster than you’d planned.  And he looked way too depressed.  God, it was like you’d just kicked a puppy.

“Yeah, well…we see how well that turned out.”  He was angry–at himself, working his jaw like it was going out of style and no longer meeting your eyes.

“Sam, I wouldn’t change it.”  You took a chance and placed your hand on his arm.  “Maybe there’s a thing or two I wouldn’t have minded skipping since then, but if given the choice, I’d still have given my heart to you.”

His intake of breath was quick.  He was caught off-guard by your confession and he wasn’t ready to feel the emotions it had conjured up.  “Dean and I–we heard you.  Back in the cabin.”

“Then you know you still have it.”

Your back hit the wall behind you when his lips met yours.  You reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair while his threaded their way through your own locks.  The press, the heat–god, all of it–it was everything you remembered and somehow, so much more.

“Sam,” you sighed when the kiss finally ended.  You leaned against the wall like your legs would give out any second if you didn’t.  God, one kiss and you were already jello.

“I’ve missed you.” He sighed.  “More than you could ever possibly know.”

“Doubt it.”  You let him pull you into his arms.  You wrapped your own around him, resting your head against his chest.  You could hear his heart racing, same as your own.  Did he feel just as light-headed and dizzy and wonderful as you did?

“I don’t even know how to begin asking you to forgive–”

“Not…”  You leaned back, shaking your head.  “Not now.  OK?  We’ll get there.  Just…not right now?”

“Yeah.  OK.”  He sighed as you hugged him to you once more, resting his head on yours


End file.
